.Z- 



NO PLrAYS EXCHANGED. 




FOOLING FATHER 



Price, 15 Cents 




CttHM 



mmmmmm^ 






THF AMAZONS ^^^^® ^ Three Acts. Seven males, dve lemaies. 
lUi ai( (J cogtumes, modem ; scenery, not diificiilt. flays 
a full evening. 

m CABINET MDaSTER g^^.^.^S.^S^t'ci^S' 

Bcenecy, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

DANDY DICK ^^^'^^ ^ Three Acts. Seven males, four temaies. 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Playr 
two hours and a half. 

THE fiAY LORD ODBX comedy in Four Acts. Four males ten 

W Y l< females. Costumes, modern ; sceDery, 
two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. 

HIS HOnSP IN ORDFR Coi^^^y in Four Acts. Nine males, foitf 
^ ^ females. Costumes, modern ; scenery* 

three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THF HORRY HORSF C<'°^^<ly ^ Three Acts. Ten males, five 
iiLi 11 Otjii fejuj^ieg^ Costumes, modern; scenery easy. 

Plays two hours and a half. 

IRIS ^'■*°^* ^ ^i^* Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumeo, 
modem ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

I ADY ROHNTIFFI ^^^ "* Four Acts. Eight males, seven fe- 
males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, four in- 
teriors, not easy Plays a full evening. 

I FTTY I^r*™* ^ Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five fe- 
males. Costumes, modem ; scenery compUcated. Plays a 
full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

l^altet !^» OBafeetJ & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



Fooling Father 



A Comedy in One Act 



By 
RAYMOND M. ROBINSON 

Author of '■'• A Thief in the House" etc. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 

1910 



Fooling Father .^1''^'°'''^ 



r 



CHARACTERS 

Mr. Samuel Somerville, a retired merchant, 
Mr. Paul Somerville, his son. 
Mr. Fred Faulkner, PauVs friend. 



Scene, — Mr. Somerville's country house. 




Copyright, 19 10, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 



TMP96-006683 
CCI.D 22497 



Fooling Father 



SCENE. — The livitig-roo?n in Mr. Samuel Somerville's 
country house. Entrances R., L. and c. At R., near back, 
is a small closet supposed to contai?i a safe. The safe itself 
7ieed not be visible from the audience. The room is comfort- 
ably though not ostentatiously furnished. Down stage, a 
little to the left of C, is a small table on which burns a lamp. 
Beside the table, seated in an armchair, is Mr. S., reading 
a book. He is an elderly man, rather stout, with gray side- 
whiskers, and wears a smokingfacket and slippers. He 
closes his book with a snap. 

Mr. S. Confound it, I'm nervous ! In the past half hour 
I've read just three pages, and now I don't know what I've 
read. (^Looks at his watch.^ What ! Nearly nine o'clock ! 
Where on earth can the young people be ? Likely enough Paul 
and his friend stopped off at the village, but I fully expected 
Anna long before this. 1 can't understand what makes her so 
late. (^Voices outside.^ Some one's coming now. About time. 

Enter Mr. Paul Somerville and Mr. Fred Faulkner, c. 

Paul. Hello, dad, had your supper ? 

Mr. S. Had my supper ! I should hope so. 

Paul. Oh, say, I thought you'd wait for us. 

Mr. S. Until this hour ? Not I. Haven't you had any- 
thing to eat? 

Paul, Only a bite — enough to last us until we got home. 
Now I'm going to raid the pantry. 

Fred. Don't let him fool you, Mr. Somerville j we had a 
good dinner in town, just before we took the train. 

Mr. S. I suspected as much. But where's Anna ? 

Paul. Anna ? How should I know ? Am I my sister's 
keeper ? 

Mr. S. Didn't she come with you ? 

Fred. No, indeed. 



4 FOOLING FATHER 

Paul. She's back from the city, isn't she? 

Mr. S. No. I supposed that she was coming with you. 
Haven't you seen her ? 

Paul, Not since morning. She went to town on the same 
train that we did, and expected to return on the five-forty- one. 

Mr. S. That was her intention wlien she left, but when she 
failed to appear I naturally supposed that she was taking tea 
with friends in the city, and would of course return on the 
eight-thirty. 

Fred. No, we came on the eight-thirty, and she wasn't 
on it. 

Mr. S. You're sure ? 

Paul. Certainly — Fred searched the whole train on the 
bare possibility of finding her. 

Mr. S. Then I don't understand where she can be. 

Fred. Nor I, either. 

Paul (^going to closet with his hat). Well, I wouldn't worry 
about her, dad. 

Mr. S. No, so long as it's only your sister that's lost you 
won't worry. If it happened to be one of your infernal bull- 
dogs you'd have had the whole village aroused an hour ago. 

Paul, What do you want me to do — insert an ad in the 
morning Record — "Lost — twenty-two-year-old girl, golden 
hair, blue eyes, answers to name of Anna. Reward if re- 
turned to " 

Mr. S. (angrily). No, I don't, and I don't want to hear 
any more of that variety of talk, either. I want you to dis- 
play a decent amount of concern for your sister. 

Paul. But seriously, father, there's no cause for worry. 
She'll turn up in the morning. 

Mr. S. Hmph ! That's what you say when the cat stays 
out all night. 

Fred. In all probability she's going to spend the night with 
friends in town. 

Mr. S. (pacing the floor nervously). Then why doesn't 
she let us know ? 

Paul. She may not be in reach of a telephone. Probably 
she's staying with the Kendalls — they haven't a 'phone. Don't 
worry, anyway, Anna's perfectly capable of taking care of 
herself. 

Mr. S. I'm not so sure of that. 

Paul. If she doesn't come inside of half an hour I'll call 
up the Campbells and see if she's there. 



FOOLING FATHER 5 

{Throwing an evening nezvspaper on the table he goes out L.) 

Mr. S. How will she be here in half an hour if she isn't 
here now? There are no more trains to-night. Why doesn't 
she let us know where she is and not keep her poor old father 
on the anxious seat? I — I'm nervous about her. 

Fred. I know how you feel, Mr. Somerville. 

Mr. S. No, you don't, either. She ain't your daughter. 

Fred. No, but I — I think a good deal of Anna, 

Mr. S. Hmph ! Everybody does. 

{He begins to search the telepho?ie book.) 

Fred. Certainly, certainly. No one can help lov — liking 
her ; she's a dear — I mean a fine girl, but I — I 

Mr. S. How do you spell Campbell, with a C or a K ? 

Fred (abruptly). With a C. 

Mr. S. Calvert — Cambria — Cambridge — there ain't any 
Campbells in the book. 

Fred. Perhaps I can find it. 

Mr. S. Find it, then. {Hands him the book.) 

Fred. Here it is. {Points it out to him.) 

Mr. S. Oh, spell it with a P in it, do they? 

Fred. H. W. Campbell, Main double seven one ring three. 

Mr. S. Main double seven what ? 

Fred (going to 'phone). Double seven one ring three. 

Mr. S. (taking telephone from Fred, to Fred's evident 

displeasure). H'm Hello Main doub — doub What 

Wait a minute {To Fred.) What did you say it 

was? 

Fred. Double seven one ring three. 

Mr. S. Main double seven one ring three Yes 

Huh ? (Replaces receiver.) Line's busy. My usual luck. 

Fred. Tlie line's always busy when you want it. 

Mr. S. M'm — especially when it's as important as it is 
now. I can't imagine where she can be all this time. 

Fred. Isn't there some one else that we can call up? The 
Wigglestones ? 

Mr. S. They're all away. 

Fred. Mary Morey ? 

Mr. S. Never — Anna can't stand her. 

Fred. Then I can't suggest any one else, I'm afraid. But 
don't worry, Mr. Somerville 

Mr. S. Why ?. 



6 FOOLING FATHER 

Fred. Oh, I don't mean that — I — I can't blame you for 
worrying, of course, I'm worrying, too — but really there's 
no need of it 

Mr. S. {turning away). Huh ! 

Fred. She's undoubtedly safe with friends. She may have 
gone to the theatre unexpectedly and will telephone as soon as 
she gets a chance. 

Mr. S. I shan't let her go to the city alone hereafter unless 
I know where she's going. 

Fred. I think, myself, that she ought to have some one to 
take care of her. 

Mr. S. I think, young man, that I'm capable of taking 
care of her myself. 

Fred. Certainly, I only meant some one who could be 
with her more, go around with her, you know, look out for her 
every need 

Mr. S. She's old enough to dispense with the services of a 
nurse. 

{Turning away he searches the telephone book again.) 

Fred. Well, I— I 

Mr. S. {at the 'phone). Main double — main double seven 

1 say, main double seven one ring...... Well, shut up, 

and let me tell you what I want ! Main double seven one 
ring three. Still busy? How long are people supposed to 
monopolize a telephone anyway? 

Fred. Can't you get them? 

Mr. S. I haven't tried yet. I was merely flirting with the 
operator. 

Fred. I beg your pardon. You see, Anna's unaccountable 
absence is on my nerves. 

Mr. S. {sarcastically). Oh ! 

Fred. Yes — ah, yes 

Paul {outside). Come out here, Fred. 

Fred. What is it ? 

Paul. Apple-pie and cheese. 

Fred. No, thanks, I'm not hungry. {In a lozver voice.) 
I hate cheese ! 

Paul. Come ahead. 

Fred. No ! {He hesitates a moment, then approaches 
Mr. S., timidly.) Ah — hum ! Mr. Somerville, I keenly ap- 
preciate your feelings in regard to Anna's welfare, and I — I 
assure you that — that 



FOOLING FATHER 7 

Mr. S. {gruffly). What do y' want now? 

Fred. 1, assure you that I also experience a feeling akin to 
— to — er — those which — which 

Mr. S. Well? 

Fred. Which you feel ! 

Mr. S. Oh, y' do? 

Fred. Yes. I find it hard to express my — my senti- 
ments 

Mr. S. That's apparent, 

Fred. But nevertheless I — I — I 



Paul (outside). Better have some of this pie, Fred, it's 
great. 

Fred. Blast the pie ! I beg your pardon, Mr. Somer- 



ville 

Paul. Anna made it. 

Fred. Pd like to, Paul, but really I'm not hungry. 

Paul. You don't know what you're missing. 

Mr. S. For heaven's sake ! go out and eat some of it, and 
stop the discussion ! 

Fred. But really I 

(Mr. S. turns azuay abruptly and opens the jiewspaper left 
by Paul. Fred hesitates a second, then, as if losing his 
courage, dashes out L.) 

Mr. S. I've heard enough of his talk. {Tries telephone 
again.) This line's busy now. Fine service ! {Scans the 
neivspaper.) " Train wreck — several injured as train enters 
station." Could Anna have been in it ! No, thank heaven, 
it was way out in Seattle. " Girl breaks ankle on Boylston 

Street. Miss Anna " Continued on page seven, column 

two. {Searches for it.) That's it — she's hurt and can't come 
home and — where the deuce? — I must go to her — here it is — 

"Miss Anna Mulvaney, of Chelsea " Oh ! It ain't my 

Anna. {Telephone rings. Mr. S. fails to notice it.) Hello, 
what's this ? " Prisoner escapes from train while being taken to 
prison. Supposed to be hiding in the woods near Greenvale." 
Right here ! "A dangerous character ! " And running wild 
about here! {Telephone rings.) Oh, my soul, I see it all 
now ! She came on the five-forty-one and has been waylaid 
and robbed and — and murdered ! 

Paul {outside). Why don't you answer the telephone? 

Mr. S. Paul, Paul, come here ! 



8 FOOLING FATHER 

Enter Paul and Fred hurriedly, the latter with a large piece 
of pie in his ha?id. 

Paul. What's the matter? 

Mr. S. (brokenly). Look — read 

(The two young men scan the article.") 

Paul. What about it ? 

Mr. S. What about it? It means that Anna may have 
been robbed and killed on the way home. 
Fred (frightened). Oh, can it be ! 
Paul. Rats ! What reason have you to suppose that ? 

(Telephone rings again.) 

Mr. S. Because — because 



Paul. Answer the 'phone. It's probably Anna trying to 
get you now. 

Mr. S. It's the police trying to notify us. I can't an- 
swer it. 

Paul. Then I will. 

Mr. S. (hastening to take the instrument ). No, let me talk. 

Hello Mr. Somerville? Yes, here What? 

Who is this ? Anna? 

Paul. I told you so. 

Fred. Thank goodness. 

Mr. S. And you're not robbed and beaten and It's 

such a relief to hear from you, my dear I've been terribly 

worried You've tried to call me a half dozen times ? 

Line busy? Where are you? Where? At Mrs. Faulk- 
ner's? 

Fred. What ! 

Mr. S. Who's she? Fred's mother? What are you 

there for? Missed the eight-thirty Met Mrs. Faulkner 

at the station? Yes I suppose it's all right so long as 

you're safe Who? H'm; yes (T^^Fred.) Faulk- 
ner, Anna wants to talk to you. 

Fred (seizing the telephone). Hello — hello little gir — 
Anna 

Mr. S. (to Paul). Lost the train. Says she met Mrs. 
Faulkner and she insisted on taking her home for the night. 

Paul. I knew she was all right. 

Mr. S. I didn't know she was so well acquainted with the 
Faulkners. 



FOOLING FATHER 9 

Paul. I'm afraid you don't keep track of your daughter's 
affairs very closely. [^Exit, l. 

Mr. S. Now what did he mean by that ? 

Fred (at telephone). And you really think I'd better tell 

him to-night? Wouldn't it be better to wait until you get 

here? No? Very well, just as you say, dear Then 

I'll tell him Good-night Yes — and I'll see you in the 

morning Meet you at the train? Yes — good-night 

Yes, I will. Good-night, deary. 

(^Hangs up receiver.) 

Mr. S. What's all that infernal poppycock? 

Fred. Thank goodness, she's safe after all. 

Mr. S. Yes. 

Fred. Yes — yes. (^Very nervous.) Mr. Somerville, you 
have been greatly worried over Anna's disappearance 

Mr. S. Is that anything extraordinary, seeing that she's my 
daughter ? 

Fred. No, no. But I've been worried, too, — er — you 
don't know how worried I've been. 

Mr. S. No. 

Fred. Perhaps you suspect how much Anna is to me, in 
fact 

Mr. S. I suspect, or at least have hitherto suspected 
nothing. 

Fred. Then if you haven't suspected, or do not hitherto 
suspect — I mean Darn it ! 

Mr. S. Well ! 

Fred. I may as well dispense with the preliminaries and 
get down to facts. 

Mr. S. Admirable idea. 

Fred. Briefly then, Anna and I are engaged 

Mr. S. What ! 

Fred. And I ask your consent to our marriage. 

Mr. S. I — I — this is unheard of! 

Fred. Anna and I had planned to tell you to-night, if she 
had come, but I — we thought it better not to wait longer. 

Mr. S. This is preposterous ! I suspected of course that 
you were attracted by her, but I never dreamed it had gone as 
far as this. 

Fred. But why not? I am old enough to know what I 
want, and well enough fixed to take care of her comfortably. 



10 



FOOLING FATHER 



And does Anna consent to this? 
I am telling you at Anna's suggestion. 

Oh, my goodness ! Why have I been so blind ! 
Have we your consent ? 

No! 
No? 

Young man, I am not yet prepared to lose my only 

But you're not losing a daughter. You're gaining 

I've got one to support now. 
Mr. Somerville, I cannot give her up without a 

My decision is final. 
I — I love her a great deal. 

So do I. 
I believe that I can take as good care of her as any 

I'm mighty sure that I can. 
I know that I can make her happier than any other 



Mr. S. 

Fred. 

Mr. S. 

Fred. 

Mr. S. 

Fred. 

Mr. S. 
daughter. 

Fred. 
a son. 

Mr. S. 

Fred. 
struggle. 

Mr. S. 

Fred. 

Mr. S. 

Fred. 
one. 

Mr. S. 

Fred. 
man can. 

Mr. S. When I am convinced that her life will be happier 
with you than with me, then, and then only, will I consent to 
her marriage. 

Fred. If you will not listen to my appeal will you consider 
Anna's? 

Mr. S. When I am positive that Anna is old enough to 
know her own mind. 

Fred. She knows it now. 

Mr. S. Maybe she thinks she does. 

Fred. I am sorry that you look upon me unfavorably. 

Mr. S. Faulkner, it isn't that. Your request was unex- 
pected, I admit — it quite took my breath away. But I don't 
refuse because of any personal prejudice against you. The 
man who gets my girl must not only be able to take care of her 
— he must be a true, courageous man, willing to brave any 
danger for her sake, willing to risk his own life to protect her, 
one who has been tried and proven. Convince me that you 
have these qualifications, and 

Fred. And you will give her to me? 

Mr. S. I didn't say so. \^Exif, v.. 

Fred {indignafitly). Oh, you didn't! It's a wondtr he 
didn't ask me to bring references from my last employer ! 



FOOLING FATHER II 

Prove my courage ! Isn't it proof enough that 1 dared to face 
him and ask for his daughter? What does he want me to do 
— rescue her from a burning house ? I can't set the place afire. 
Why, deuce take it, we'll elope ! 

Paul (entering). What's the matter? 

Fred. I'm in trouble up to my neck, 

Paul. What have you done now ? 

Fred. I'v^ been turned down. 

Paul. Who turned you down, the Odd Fellows ? 

Fred. No, your father. 

Paul. Dad? What did he turn you down for? I didn't 
know that you were looking for a job. 

Fred. I'm not. Can't you understand? I've just asked 
your father's consent to our marriage 

Paul, Your — what ? 

Fred. My marriage with Anna. 

Paul. Congratulations, old man ! 

Fred. Congratulations nothing ! Didn't I tell you that I 
was turned down ? 

Paul. Turned down? 

Fred. Yes, turned down — refused — snubbed — vetoed — 
balked — side-tracked — stung — call it anything you like. 

Paul. Won't let you have her? 

Fred. No. 

Paul. Well, I'll be 

Fred, Same here, 

Paul, What reason did he give ? 

Fred. Said something to the effect that the fellow who gets 
Anna must prove his courage and all that. 

Paul. I suspected as much. Dad is a regular hero wor- 
shipper. He always considered my college course a failure be- 
cause I didn't make the varsity football team. 

Fred. Then there seems to be little show for me. I'm no 
grand -stand player. 

Paul. Oh, cheer up, there's hope for you yet. Bide your 
time. I'll see you through this. 

Fred. It's mighty good to know that you're with me, old 
boy, but it makes me blamed uncomfortable to be placed this 
way, I feel like a knight in the fairy tales compelled to win 
his princess by feats of bloody valor, I thought those days 
were over, 

Paul, Not on your life. The only difference is that the 
knight of to-day wears a number seven derby instead of a steel 



12 FOOLING FATHER 

helmet and rides a six-cylinder touring car instead of a white 
horse. Take my advice, Freddy, and wait till the wind shifts. 
While there's life there's hope, you know. 

Fred. And you think I'll win out yet? 

Paul. Sure, if you play your cards carefully. 

Fred. Then I'll fight it out. 

Paul. Shake on it. 

Enter Mr. S., partly undressed, wrapped in a bath robe. 

Mr. S. I beg your pardon. I thought you had retired. 

Paul. Just going to, dad. 

Mr. S. I thought it advisable to look to my safe. 

Paul. What's the matter with the safe ? No worse than 
usual, is it? 

Mr. S. It has long been in a bad condition, but this piece 
in the evening paper has set me to thinking. I may as well tell 
you that in this safe are a couple of boxes. One of them con- 
tains certain papers of mine; the other holds all of Anna's jew- 
elry (Paul smiles), consisting mostly of family heirlooms, ar- 
ticles which I wouldn't lose for many times their cost. 

Paul. I doubt very much if your escaped convict is doing 
a great deal in the burglary line to-night. He is probably too 
busy getting away. 

Mr. S. Nevertheless, I'm not taking any unnecessary risks. 
It's just as well to make sure that the safe is locked. 

(^ffe goes to the closet a fid locks the safe inside.) 

Paul. As if any life-sized burglar couldn't make that safe 
look like a second-hand sardine box. 

Mr. S. It is the best we have, until a new one is installed. 
In the meantime I shall ask you young gentlemen to sleep with 
one eye open to guard against possible trouble. \_Exit, r. 

Paul. The old gent would rather lose his head than Anna's 
old jewelry. 

Fred. I wish to thunder the convict would break in here. 

Paul. Why ? 

Fred. So I could perform a few heroic stunts on him. 

Paul. And pull down the governor's blessing on your head ? 
Not a bad idea, at that. 

Fred. But a decidedly improbable one, 

Paul. I'm not so sure about it. 

Fred. Why ? 



FOOLING FATHER I3 

Paul. Look here ; are you game for a little trick to win 
the parental admiration ? 

Fred. I'm game for anything. Talk on. 

Paul. Then listen. It's after ten now. We'll turn in. 
Some time between now and morning a burglar will break in, 
get away with the jewelry, and wake you up in doing so. The 
rest of it is up to you. Little Freddy chases the criminal down 
the road, and after a fierce but victorious struggle returns with 
the precious family heirlooms. See ? 

Fred. Fine ! But who furnishes the burglar? 

Paul. Won't I do ? 

Fred. You ? 

Paul. Sure. 

Fred. Oh, I see light breaking through the clouds. Polly, 
you're a — a dear ! 
. Paul. Thanks, — but — the burglar gets away. 

Fred. Certainly, and I'll be everlastingly indebted to you, 
old man. 

Paul. Then it's a go. 

(Paul extinguishes the light and the two go out l. A mo- 
ment's pause, the stage in darkness, then Mr. S. enters 
quietly, R., ifi bath robe and slippers, and carrying a small 
night lamp. He places the lamp on the table, listens for 
a sound, then goes to door c. and looks out. Returning 
he opens the closet door and opens the safe. He removes 
the ttvo boxes, brings thejn down front to the table, ex- 
amities each carefully, then opens each and exatnines the 
contetits. The box of papers he closes again and replaces 
in the safe, carefully locking the combination afid fasten- 
ing the closet door. He comes back to the table and loiters 
for a few seconds over the fervels. A creaking timber, 
outside L., startles him; he listens, goes to L., listens 
again, then, as there is no further sotind, he returns and 
closes the Jeivel box. Taking the lamp he goes to door c, 
closes and locks it. Then zvith the box in one hand, the 
lamp in the other he starts out r. As he reaches the door 
the telephone rings. Startled he turns, hesitates, then sets 
the box and lamp on the table and goes to the instrument, 
answering in a low tone.') 

Mr. S. Hello Yes Anna? Why, what is it, my 

dear? Just wanted to talk to me? Uh-huh H'm, 

yes, he did I — I told him I couldn't consent No, my 



14 FOOLING FATHER 

girl, you're altogether too young. Wait till you know whether 

you really want him or not I know you think you're 

sure What? How long? Engaged a year ! Oh, my 

daughter, why didn't you tell me? Yes — he's all right, I 

guess. {Slowly. ) M' m Of course I want you to be happy, 

but 1 know I— I'll think it over M'm We'll 

see Good-night. {Hangs tip receiver arid sits for a moment 

staring into the audience as if dazed. At last he rises, takes 
the box and latnp, and starts out R. At the door he pauses 
and turns, facing the telephone.') Well, what a blind, deluded 
old fool I've been ! 

{He goes out sloivly, R., leaving stage in darkness.) 

Enter Paul, from opposite entrance, stealthily. He stumbles 
over a chair. 

Paul. Thunder ! 

Fred {rushing in L. , minus coat and collar). Stop thief - 



Paul. Shut up, you idiot ! I haven't got the box yet ! 

Frkd. But you made such a noise I thought you were 
giving me the signal. 

Paul. Signal nothing ! I fell over a chair. Give me a 
match. 

Fred. I left my matches in my coat pocket. 

Paul. There's one on the table. 

(Fred goes to the table and feels for a match.) 

Fred. There aren't any here. 
Paul. Yes, there are ; beside the lamp. 
Fred. I have one. {Knocks a small vase off the table.) 
The deuce ! 

Paul. You're noisier than I am. 
Fred. Here are your matches, anyway. 

{They go to the closet. Paul tries to open the safe, while 
Fred holds the lighted match.) 

Paul. I believe I've forgotten the combination. 
Fred {sarcastically). Good. 

Paul. I could rip the door off, but I don't want to smash 
the thing if I can help it. 
Fred. Ouch ! 
Paul. What's the matter now ? 



FOOLING FATHER 1 5 

Fred. Burned my fingers. (^Lights another match.) 
Paul. Steady now. I think I've got it. 

{Silence for a few moments zuhile they work over the safe. 
At last they open it and Paul removes the box.) 

Fred. Is that it ? 

Paul. Yes. 

Fred. Listen ! 

Paul. Not a sound — the coast is clear. Are you ready ? 

Fred. Yes. 

Paul. Then remember, I'll run down the road. You can 

catch up with me just beyond the barn, rescue the jewels and 
scratch your face up a bit to make it look more heroic. Mean- 
while, I'll skip back by a roundabout way and join the chase. 

Fred. All right. Is the door fixed so you can get out ? 

Paul. I'll fix it. {Opens door at back.) 

Fred. You'll have to make some disturbance to give warn- 
ing. 

Paul. Here goes, then. 

{He knocks over a piece of furniture, then starts out.) 

Fred. Here, take the box. 

(Paul hastily returfis for the box which he had forgotten, 
then dashes out c.) 

Mr. S. {outside r.). What's the matter? 
Fred. Thieves ! Thieves ! 
Mr. S. Stop them ! 

(Fred dashes out c, shouting ''Stop thief !^') 

Enter Mr. S. , r. He pauses at the entrance and looks around 
the room, holding his night lamp aloft. Then leaving the 
lamp on the table he steps quickly to C. and looks out. Com- 
ing back, he stops a second at L. , listening, then goes to the 
closet and examines the safe. Once more he goes to c. and 
stands for a second looking out ; then, with a slight, de- 
risive smile, he comes down again, takes the lamp and goes 
out R., as Fred andVkVh are heard returning. 

Paul {outside c). I thought we'd lost him when he vaulted 
the fence. 

Fred {outside c). I was afraid so, too. 



l6 FOOLING FATHER 

Enter Paul and Fred, both panting, the latter'' s face scratched 
and clothes dusty. He carries the box. Paul lights the 
lamp 071 the table. 

Paul. But we saved the jewels, anyway. Congratulations, 
old man, you put up a bully fight Where's the governor ? 

Fred. He must have gone out. 

Paul. Or else he's slept all through it, and we've acted out 
our little comedy for nothing. 

Fred (^pressing his handkerchief to his bruised fade'). 
Heaven forbid ! 
" Mr. S. {entering v..). Forbid what? 

Fred. That we — oh, that I should ever encounter such an 
antagonist again. 

Mr. S. 1 heard the commotion 

Paul. I should think so. The thief must have stumbled 
over a chair in his efforts to get away. 

Mr. S. Yes, it sounded that way. I remember distinctly 
hearing him say "Thunder ! " 

Paul. Oh, but that was before — I 

Fred {to Paul). Look out, Paul ! 

Mr. S. Before what ? 

Paul. Before I got here — I mean, I didn't hear him say 
that 

Mr. S. I don't know which one it was. 

Fred. Which one ? 

Mr. S. I certainly heard two voices in conversation. 

Paul. Oh, yes ; it seems to me we did see two, didn't we, 
Fred? 

Fred. Yes, to be sure. The other one got away. 

Mr. S. Then you captured one? Where is he? 

Fred. Oh, no ; that is, he broke away from us. 

Paul. But we saved the jewels. 

Fred. Yes, here is the precious box. 

Mr. S. Indeed, I am relieved to know that you have saved 
this. 

Paul. And you can thank Fred for it, dad. If it weren't 
for him the box would never be where it is now. 

Mr. S. I dare say not. 

Paul. But you should have seen the fight he had with the 
burglar. Look here, Fred's a wonder, a regular hero. 

Fred {modestly). Oh, I say 

Paul. But it was great the way he handled the big ruffian. 



FOOLING FATHER fj 

Mr. S. Was he big ? 

Paul. He was a gigantic brute ! And an ugly looking 
fellow at that ! 

Mr. S. You saw him clearly ? 

Fred. Oh, yes. 

Mr. S. Then you will be able to furnish the police with a 
good description. 

Fred. The police ? 

Paul. Are you going to notify the police? 

Mr. S. Why, it was the very first thing that occurred to 
me, to telephone for the police. 

Paul. Is — is it necessary to put it in the hands of the police 
when nothing has been taken ? 

Mr. S. 1 should say it would be advisable to hire the best 
detective available. 

Paul. But there's no need of going to that expense when 
you haven't lost anything. 

Mr. S. Have you looked to find out if anything is missing ? 

Paul. Er — we rescued all that he had with him. 

Mr. S. But the other ? There were two of them. 

Fred. Two ? No 

(Paul interrupts hastily.^ 

Paul. Oh, yes, two ; but the other one didn't have any- 
thing. 

Mr. S. How do you know ? 

Paul. Why, because I — we — you haven't missed anything, 
have you ? And beside, Fred drove them away too quickly. 

Mr. S. Nevertheless I think it best to call the police. 

Fred (jiursing his bruises with his haridker chief). Cer- 
tainly, certainly. 

Mr. S. And I shall count on your aid in identifying the 
guilty parties. 

Fred. To be sure. {Aside.') Oh, what are we up against ? 

Mr. S. I beg pardon ? 

Fred. I — I merely remarked that my face seems bruised 
where the blackguard hit me. 

Mr. S. Indeed, I should have attended to it before. 

Fred. Oh, it's nothing. 

Mr. S. Let me put something on it. \_Exit, R. 

Fred. I got that running into the clothes-line. 

Paul. Hang the clothes-line ! Look at the mess we've got 
into. The police will be onto us in no time. 



l8 FOOLING FATHER 

Mr. S. {entering zvith bottle). Let me put some of this 
liquid court plaster on your wounds. 

Fred. No, no, really I 

Mr. S. But it's quite essential. 

Fred. No, I assure you, I 

Mr. S. Hold still. 

(^He applies the liquid to Fred's bruises. Fred leaps in 
agony.) 

Fred. Oh, heavens ! 

Mr. S. Of course it smarts a little, but one who is brave 
enough to tackle a gigantic burglar single-handed will not mind 
such a little thing. 

Fred. N-no, of course not — ouch ! 

(Fred sinks into a chair, tre7nbling with the pain, after the 
final application.) 

Mr. S. Have you any bruises to be treated, Paul ? 

Paul (Jiastily moving away). No, no, I haven't. You 
see, Fred got there first and the fight was about over when I 
arrived. 

Mr. S. Then I certainly owe Mr. Faulkner the thanks of 
the family for his brave defense of our home. 

Paul. And particularly for his daring rescue of Anna's 
jewelry box. 

Fred. It is enough to know that I did what I could for 
Anna's sake. 

Mr. S. Ahem — yes. Perhaps we had better open the box 
to make sure that the contents are undisturbed. 

Fred. Yes, indeed. 

(Mr. S. opens the box, revealing a collection of old papers.) 

Paul. What the deuce ! 

Fred. But — but the jewels 

Mr. S. This box contains nothing but a lot of old receipted 
gas bills. 

Fred. But where are Anna's jewels? 

Paul. Oh, what an idiot ! I took the wrong box 

Mr. S. You took the wrong box ? 

Paul. No, I mean the wrong burglar. The other one must 

have had the jewel box. 

Mr. S. Then the jewels are gone, after all? 



FOOLING FATHER 



19 



Paul. No, perhaps not. You will probably find the other 
box in the safe. 

Fred. Yes. We — I drove them away before they could 
take both boxes. 

Mr. S. {after searching in the closet^. The other box is 
not here. 

Paul. What ! 

Fred. Not there ! 

Mr. S. Exactly. 

Paul (Jo ^ry^d, in genuine fear'). Then where is it ? 

Fred. Well, where is it? I don't know. 

Mr. S. Isn't it in the possession of the other burglar, as you 
suggested ? 

Paul. No 

Fred. 

Paul. 

Fred. 

Paul. 



Yes — yes 

Yes, sure 

Let's chase the other burglar. 
All right, come on. 

(Both start out c.) 



Mr. S. Wait ! 

(They turn wonderingly, then both come dowti stage slowly. 

Mr. S. watches them sternly, until they seat themselves. 
Then he goes out r.) 

Paul. There's a red light on our track. 

Fred. What can we do, Paul ? 

Paul. Bluff it out, there's nothing else to do. 

Fred. Oh, but I — I 

Enter Mr. S., with the box. 

Mr. S. There, gentlemen, is the box. 

Fred. Safe ? 

Paul. Where did you find it ? 

Mr. S. In my room, where I placed it for safe-keeping. 

Paul. And the burglar didn't get it, after all? 

Mr. S. No, neither of the burglars got it. 

Paul. But you knew it was safe all the time ? 

Mr. S. Yes. 

Paul. But I— I 

Mr. S. Well, what ? 

Paul. Wh-what a scare you gave us. 



20 FOOLING FATHER 

Mr. S. {7vith sudden severity). Young man, that scare is 
nothing to the scare you'll get if you ever try that trick again. 
Paul. Trick ? 
Mr. S. Yes, trick ! 

( Glares first at Paul, the7i at Fred.) 

Fred. I — I don't understand you, Mr. Somerville. 

Mr. S. Will you be able to understand nie when I charge 
you with burglary? 

Paul. Father ! 

Mr. S. Yes, and you, Paul. (^Both yotmg }?ien are silent, 
and avoid Mr. S.'s eye.) The next time you plan to rob my 
safe, take care that I am not in hearing distance. 

(Points to door R.) 

Paul (after a jnoment's indecision). I may as well own up, 
I suppose ? 

Mr. S. (sarcastically). Excellent plan. 

Paul. The whole business was a — a joke 

Mr. S. Oh, indeed ! 

Paul. A — trick of which I am author and chief actor. I 
willingly shoulder the entire responsibility. 

Mr. S. Very brilliant of you ; Faulkner, I assume, had no 
part in it. 

Fred, Yes, Mr. Somerville, I did my share, and I take my 
share of the blame. 

Mr. S. Very brilliant of you, too. What a noble candi- 
date for son-in-law ! 

Fred. Mr. Somerville, I entered into this trick foolishly. I 
realize it and regret it. But I did it with just one purpose. 
To-night I told you of my love for Anna, and asked you for 
her in an honest, manly way. You refused me — told me to go 
and prove my bravery. I have waited over a year for your 
daughter, during which time I have tried in every way possible 
to be worthy of her. You told me that I must demonstrate to 
you that I was courageous, willing to brave any danger for her 
sake, that I must be tried and proven. 

Mr. S. Well? 

Fred. If you were in my place would you have sat down 
in a corner and waited for something to turn up ? 

Mr. S. No. 

Fred. Neither did I. With Paul's help I made the oppor- 
tunity. 



FOOLING FATHER 21 

{For several seconds the vienface each other defiantly. Then 
Mr. S. smiles.') 

Mr. S. Faulkner, I admire your nerve. 

Fred {grimly). Thanks. I've only told you the truth. 

Paul. That's right, dad. 

Mk. S. I know it. In fact, I heard almost every word of 
your conversation when you were laying your plans. 

Fred. Then 1 can simply ask your pardon for acting as 
I did. 

Mr. S. Granted. Er — in fact, I am beginning to realize 
that my demands of you were a little unreasonable. I can af- 
ford to admit it, now that you have been sufficiently punished 
for your folly. 

Paul. We have that. 

Mr. ^. You see, I — I didn't know how Anna felt about it. 

Fred. I would have preferred waiting until she came home 
before speaking to you. 

Mr. S. H'm. It isn't necessary now. I have talked with 
her on the 'phone since our conversation. 

Fred. You have talked with Anna? 

Mr. S. Yes. And I've come to the conclusion that per- 
haps after all she knows her own mind. 

Fred {ecstatically). Then you'll consent to our engage- 
ment? 

Mr. S. Well, I didn't say so. 

Fred. But you will ? 

Mr. S. It is still too much to expect me to give my I'eply 
at such short notice, nevertheless 

Fred. Yes ? 

Mr. S. If you give me time — er — I 

Fred. Yes? 



Mr. S. I might — I say might consent 

Fred. Yes ? 

Mr. S. under one condition. 

Fred. And that? 

Mr. S. That you will promise never again to try the little 
trick of fooling father. 



CURTAIN 



New Plays 
MR. EASYMAN'S NIECE 

A Farcical Comedy in Four Acts 

By Belle Marshall Locke 

Six males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interiors and 
one easy exterior that may be played indoors if desired. Plays a full even- 
ing. A clever and vivacious play, full of fun and action. Mr. Easyman's 
fad of spiritualism leads him into a difficulty that is a source of endless 
amusement to the audience. Irish and old maid comedy parts. Can be 
recommended. 

Price, 2^ cetits 

CHARACTERS 

Mr. Stephen Easyman, a wealthy Mr. Sharpe, a detective, 

broker. Miss Judith Carroll, a maide: 

Mr. Carew Carlton, ^/j nephew. aunt. 

Mr. Tom Ashleigh. Mrs. Easyman, ") her 

Jackson, a serva?it. Miss Bessie Carrol',, J nieces* 

Michael Flynn. Desdemona, the ghost. 

A PAIR OF BURGLARS 

By Byron P. Glenn 

Two males, two females. One act. Costumes modern ; scenery, an 
easy interior. Plays half an hour. A brisk little curtain raiser of the 
"vaudeville " type, moving all the time. Easy and effective; all the parts 
young people and well-dressed. Strongly recommended. 

Price, i^ cents 

DANE'S DRESS-SUIT CASE 

By Robert C. V. Meyers 

Two males, one female. One act. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy 
interior. Plays fifteen minutes. An excellent short play to fill out a biU 
or to fill in an intermission. All action and lots of fun. All parts young 
and well-dressed. 

Price, 15 cents 



New Plays and Entertainments 

MISS FEARLESS & CO. 
A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Belle Marshall Locke 
Ten females. Scenery, two interiors ; costumes modern. Plays a full 
ivening. A bright and interesting play full of action and incident. Can be 
strongly recommended. All the parts are good. Sarah Jane Lovejoy, Katie 
O'Connor and Euphemia Addison are admirable character parts, and Miss 
Alias and Miss Alibi, the " silent sisters," offer a side-splitting novelty. 
Price, 2^ cents 

MRS. BRIGGS OF THE POULTRY YARD 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Evelyn Gray Whiting 
Four males, seven females. Scene, an interior; costumes modern. A 
domestic comedy looking steadfastly at the " bright side " of human 
affairs. Mrs. Briggs is an admirable part, full of original humor and 
quaint sayings, and all the characters are full of opportunity. Simply but 
effectively constructed, and written with great humor. Plays two hours. 
Price, 2J cents 

SCENES IN THE UNION DEPOT 

A Humorous Entertainment in One Scene 

By Laura M. Parsons 

Twenty-four males, eighteen females and eight children, but can be 
played by less if desired. Scenery unimportant; costumes modern. Full 
of humorous points and chances to introduce local hits. Plays from ao 
hour up, according to specialties introduced. 
Price, 2J cents 

A MODERN SEWING SOCIETY 

An Entertainment in One Scene 

By O. W. Gleason 
Fourteen females. Costumes modern ; no scenery required. May be 
easily presented on a bare platform. Plays forty-five minutes. A hu- 
morous picture of this much-abused institution, briskly and vivaciously 
written and full of "points." Its characters offer a wide variety of op- 
portunity for local hits and satire of local characters and institutions. 

Price, ij; cents 



New Plays 



RED ACRE FARM 

A Rural Comedy Drama in Three Acts 

By Gordan V. May 

Author of " Bar Haven," "At Random Rim," etc. 

Seven males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior, 

one exterior. Plays two hours. An easy and entertaining play with a 

well-balanced cast of characters. The story is strong and sympathetic and 

the comedy element varied and amusing. Barnaby Strutt is a great part 

for a good comedian ; " Junior " a close second. Strongly recommended. 

Price, 2^ ce7its 

CHARACTERS 
JosiAH Armstrong, the owner of Red Acre Farm. 
Colonel Barnaby Strutt, "Crawling Codwollopers." 
Jonah Jones, a farm helper. 
Squire Harcourt, who holds a mortgage, 
Harry Harcourt, his profligate son. 
Dick Randall, who seeks his fortune. 
To .VI Busby, a traveling juerchant. 
Amanda AR.MSTRONG,'^£)iw/y.y wife. 
Nellie Armstrong, driven from home. 
Laura Armstrong, a poor, weak sinner. 
Mrs. Barnaby Strutt, the Colonel's wife. 
" Junior," adopted daughter of the Strutts. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Living-room of Armstrong's home. Spring. 
Act n. — Garden in front of Armstrong's home. Summer. 
Act HL — Same as Act L Winter. 

THE SPEED LIMIT 

A Sketch in Two Scenes 
By Ernest M. Gould 
Five males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unnecessary. Plays twenty 
minutes. A good-natured and effective skit on automobiling, very funny 
and very easy to get up. It requires no scenery or stage, but can be done 
on a platform just as well. Its fun is extravagant, but it is otherwise 
suited for school performance. Price, /j cents 

"WILLIAM " 

A Farce in One Act 
By W. C. Parker 

Two males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. 
Plays twenty minutes. A brisk little piece of the vaudeville order, easy 
and full of laughs. All three parts are good ; strongly recommended. 
Price, I J cents 



New Plays 



THE SISTERHOOD OF BRIDGET 

A Farce in Three Acts 

By Robert Elwin Ford 

Seven males, six females. Costumes modern ; scenery, easy interiors. 
Plays two hours. An easy, effective and very humorous piece turning 
upon the always interesting servant-girl question. A very unusual num- 
ber of comedy parts; all the parts good. Easy to get up and well rec- 
ommended. 

Price, 2j cents 

CHARACTERS 

Edward yiksoiiy a wealthy stock- Mrs. Mason , soa'a/ist and as- 

broker. thete. 

Lord Curton, in search of a Eleanor Mason, her daugh'^ 

wife with money. ter. 

Ward Leighton, lieutenant of Bridget, the cook, 

the lydth Regiment. Josie Riley, ") , . , 

Mvf.Y.yVz'^B.A^-e., driver of a milk- Emma Hone, j * 

cart. Mary Macrae, Jimmy's sister, 

Jimmy Macrae, page at Mr. Timothy Rouke, house painter. 

Mason's. William, butler at Mr. Masori's, 

THE ALL-AMERICA ELEVEN 

By M. N. Beebe 

Twelve males. Costumes modern ; scenery unnecessary. Plays fifteen 
minutes. An up-to-date and popular entertainment for boys in one scene, 
sure to please both the boys and the audience. Characters : Football Boy, 
Baseball Boy, Tennis Boy, Office Boy, Messenger Boy, Country Boy, 
Chinese Boy, Jewish Boy, Irish Boy, Indian Boy, Negro Boy and Trainer. 
Price, 75" cents 

TAKING THE THIRD DEGREE 
IN THE GRANGE 

By J. C. Daniels 

Seventeen males. Costumes eccentric ; scenery unnecessary. Plays ten 
minutes. A burlesque initiation in one act, especially adapted for a Grange 
entertainment. Very simple, very clean and wholly lacking in horse-play 
and acrobatics. Well suited for its purpose. 
Price, ij cents 



New Entertainments 



DIALOGUES and ENTERTAINMENTS 

For Grammar Grades 

^j H. H. Pierson 
And others 
A collection of thirteen new dialogues and nine entertainments intended 
for the use of grammar grades, including a few items for younger children. 
Specially written by an experienced teacher and confidently oftered on the 
guarantee of this fact. The following list of contents will sufiiciently 
describe the book. Frice, 2^ cents 

CONTENTS 

The Dollies' Fortune. For three little girls. 

A Gift to Santa Claus. For three little girls. 

The Monomaniacs. For three girls. 

A Wily Salesman. For one boy and two girls. 

Escaped From the Zoo. For three boys and one girl. 

The Little Stars. For one larger and two smaller girls. 

The S. I. M.'s. For three boys and three girls. 

Mrs. Webster's Address. For one boy and two girls. 

Aunt Patience's Umbrella. For one boy and three girls. 

The Dog, ihe Cat, and the Rat. For three little boys. 

The Aqua Marina Panacea. For nine large girls. 

The Three Jacks. For three boys. 

Answer — A Charade. ■ For one boy aftd one girl. 

The World's Work. For eight boys. 

Half an Hour With a Giant. Any number of boys. 

A Carnival of Days. 

May Day. For seventeen little girls. 

Memorial Day. For six boys and twelve girls. 

The Fourth of July. For fifteen boys and chorus, 

Christmas. For eleven boys and eight girls. 

St. Valentine's Day. For nine girls. 
A Dream of the Centuries. For twelve boys and six girls. 
Mademoiselle's Christmas Gifts. One boy and eight girls. 
America's Birthday Party. For nine girls. 
Tell-Tale — Charade. For nine boys and nine girls. 
Buoyant — Charade. For five boys and two girls. 
Dotage — Charade. For five boys and six girls. 

WEST OF OMAHA 

A Farce in One Act 

By Rachel Barton Butler 
Four -males, three females. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy interior. 
Plays forty-five minutes. An easy and effective farce of the better sort, 
dealing with " society " people. Miss Rowena van Newburgh's point of 
view is rather that popular " West of Omaha " than the one generally 
held in New York, but she is a vei-y likable young lady. Colored comedy 
part. Can be recommended. Price, ij cents 



New Plays 



THE COUNTRY DOCTOR 

A Comedy Drama in Four Acts 

By Arthur Lewis Tubbs 

Author of " Valley Farin," "IVillowdale," "The Village 

School- Ala am," "The Country Minister," "Miss 

Biizby s Boarders," etc. 

Six males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. 

Plays two hours. Easy to stage and full of interest. The female parts 

are the stronger, being exceptionally good. Negro and " hayseed " 

comedy parts. A very strong dramatic piece and a sure hit in good 

hands. Can be recommended on the name of the author, whose plays are 

always successful. 

Price, 2j cents 

CHARACTERS 
Thomas Brixton, M. D., the village doctor. 
Howard Wayne, in love with Dolly. 
'Squire Ferguson, the sheriff'. 
Sam Birch, proprietor of the hotel. 
Zebediah Bunn, who hatigs around. 
Eri, that's all. 

Ben Shaw, the stage-driver. « 

A(;nes Gilbert, shadowed by fate. 
Dolly Britton, the doctor s sister. 
Susan Pinner, his housekeeper. 
Mrs. Birch, Sam s zvife. 
Anna Belle Umstead, with aspirations. .^ 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Office of the American House, Elmville, N. Y., about 
nine o'clock oti an evening in January. 

Act II. — Dr. Britton's residence, a morning early in the next 
June. • 

Act ni. — The same, in the evening, a week later. 

Act IV. — Same as Act I, the next morning. 

THE MAN WITH THE NOSE 

A Farce in Two Scenes 
By Edward P. Ktiox 
Eight males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays forty 
minutes. Written especially for performance by boys' schools and rec- 
ommended for that purpose. Very clever and quite unusual both in idea 
and in treatment. A great success in its original performance at'St. George's 
Tiade School. 

Price, /j cents 



New Rural Plays 



VALLEY FARM 
A Drama in Four Acts 

By Arthur Lewis Ttibbs 
Six males, six females. Scenery, two interiors and an exterior. Cos- 
tumes modern. This play is powerfully emotional, but is relieved by 
plenty of humor. An admirable play for amateurs, very sympathetic in 
theme, and with lots of good parts. Hetty is a strong lead, and Perry 
Deane and Silas great parts ; while Azariah, Lizy Ann Tucker and Ver- 
bena are full of fun. Plays a full evening. 
Price, 25 cents 

WILLOWDALE 

A Play in Three Acts 

By Arthur Lewis Tubbs 
Seven males, five females. Scenery, two easy interiors; costumes 
modern. This is a play of exceptional interest and power. Its combina- 
tion of humor and emotional interest makes it almost certain to please any 
audience. Admirably suited for amateur performance, all the parts being 
good. Godfrey is an admirable heavy part, Joel, Lem and Simon capital 
character parts. Mis' Hazey a novel eccentric bit, and Oleander a part of 
screaming comedy. Plays two hours and a quarter. 
Price, 25 cents 

DOWN IN MAINE 

A Drama in Four Acts 

By Charles Townsend 
Eight male, four female characters. This charming play is Mr. 
Townsend's masterpiece. There are no villains, no " heroics," no tangled 
plot nor sentimental love-scenes ; yet tlie climaxes are strong, the action 
brisk, and the humor genial, and the characters strongly drawn. Can be 
played in any hall ; scenery, of the easiest sort. No shifting during any 
act. Properties, few and simple ; costumes modern. Plays a full evening. 
Strongly recommended. 

Price, 25 cents 

BAR HAVEN 
A Comedy in Three Acts 

By Gordan V. May 
Six males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interiors 
and an exterior, not difficult. Plays two hours. An excellent piece, 
cleverly mingling a strongly serious interest with abundant humor. Ofiers 
a great variety of good parts of nearly equal opportunity. Admirably 
suited for amateur performance, and strongly recommended* 
Price t 2S cents 



. New Plays 



THE GOVERNMENT DETECTIVE 

A Play in Four Acts 

By Bernard Francis Moore 

Author of "Belle the Typewriter Girl," "Brother Against 
Brother," "The Moonshiner s Daughter," etc. 

Eight males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, four interiors. 
Plays two hours. A highly spiced melodrama suitable for performance 
by young folks or by their elders who like plenty of excitement. Easy 
and thrilling, like all the plays by this author. 
Price, 25 cetits 

CHARACTERS 

Captain Wilbur Foster, a goveynment detective ; under the as- 
sumed na}ne of Paul Gray, a retired banker. 
John Arnold, the captain of a secret batid of criminals. 
Martin Jackson, a wealthy youjig jnan. 
Alexander Adams, ivarden of the Jefferson Prison. 
Nick Morton, Foster s assistant. 
James Armstrong, a retired capitalist. 
Edwin Ray, his nephew. 
Peter, a clerk at the prison. 

Mrs. Laura Marston, ayoiaig widoiv atid Johns sister. 
Clara Akustro'hg, James' daughter and heiress. 
Effie Jackson, Martin s sister. 
Marv, a servant. 

A PECK OF TROUBLE 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Five females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twenty 
minutes. A capital little play for young girls in or out of school; clean, 
bright and easy to get up. 

Price, 75 cents 

MUCH TOO SUDDEN 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Seven females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays thirty 
minutes. Mrs. Alston is a fond mother who cannot see that her daughters 
have grown up until they and all the rest of the world are aware of it. 
Her awakening is very funny. Clean and bright. Recommended for 
schools. 

Price, I J cents 



31. W, Imtto's Paps 



THF MAfilSTPATF Farce in Three Acts. Twelve males, four 
lUC ITIAUIJIAAIE females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all 
interior. Plays two hours and a half. 

m NOTORIODS MBS. EBBSMITP "TlJiJr,™*:. 

Costumes, modern ; scenery, all interiors PI: ys a lull evening, 

THF PRflFl MlATF Play in Four Acts cieven males, five females. 
lUK rftUrWUAlt< scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate; 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THE Crnnni it ICTDPCC Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, seven 
inC StnUUUHllSlKCM fg^^i^s. costumes, modem; scenery, 

three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

TBE SECOND MRS. TANQCERAf ^ZtZTu^L ""ct 

tumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

SWFFT T AVRNflFR comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, four 
^nCCl IvAYKLlULA females. Scene, a single interior; costumes, 
modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIIWFS Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
lUly 1 Li J gggjie^ a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays a 
full evening. 

THF WFAKFR SFX comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, eight 
lUCi TTCAUCa JEA females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two 
interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITBOCT A SMILE r^Lfr wL^S...™.! 

n^odern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Walttv 1$. OBafeet S, Company 

0. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



mSZl "'^ CONGRESS 




%fjt Willmn Wi, 016 iSff e 
of ^laps 



AS YflU I IlfF IT Comedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four 
AO IwU ifllVLi 11 females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, va- 
ried. Plays a full evening. 

riMIirp Drama in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. Cos- 
Villult<L«L< tumes, modern ; scenery, varied. Plays a full evening. 

INfiOMAff ^^*y ^^ Five Acts. Thirteen males, three females. 
inUVUlrtlV Scenery varied ; costumes, Greek. Plays a full evening. 

MARY STUART Tragedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four fe- 
liLAIVl OIL) Am males, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the 
period ; scenery, varied and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE ^^^^^^^^^ 1^^, 

.picturesque ; scenery varied. Plays a full evening. 

RirHPI IFIl -^'^y '" Five Acts. Fifteen males, two females. Scen- 
AlVllLil^lLiU ery elaborate; costumes of the period. Plays a full 



THF RIVAT S Comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. 
lUK niTALfJ Scenery varied; costumes of the period. Plays a 
full evening. 

SHF STfiOPS Tfi CflNnilFR comedy in Five Acts. Fifteen 
JUEi JlUUro lU VUnytCII males, four females. Scenejy va- 
ried ; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening. 

TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL "^Z^^nllll 

three females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, varied. Plays a 
full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

3^alter 1^. I3a6er d Compani? 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 

S. J. PARKHILL 4k OO., PRINTERS, BOSTON, U.S.A. 



